


je dors mieux à côté de toi

by eliottamoureux



Series: tumblr drabbles/prompt fills [11]
Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: College AU, M/M, also eliott takes ancient greek because i'm learning ancient greek and i said so!!, just... the fucking softest, roommates au, they share a bed, they're both in uni and they're both Tired
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2020-09-27 12:34:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20407840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eliottamoureux/pseuds/eliottamoureux
Summary: That had been the time, he thinks.The first time his heart had whisperedthere’s something here.Now, he’s 99% sure that that something is a full-blown, all-consuming crush on his roommate.His roommate who— he realizes when he turns his lamp on— is curled up in the wrong bed.





	je dors mieux à côté de toi

**Author's Note:**

> this was a prompt fill for [the lovely lovely myra!!](https://www.softdemaury.tumblr.com) she always sends me the softest prompts what a queen
> 
> as per usual, [this was originally posted on my tumblr!!](https://eliottamoureux.tumblr.com/post/186002403887/5-100-for-the-prompts)

Finals season is killing him. Really and truly killing him.

He started the week off with Film Analysis, which he admittedly doesn’t hate. His prof focuses far too much on details that he doesn’t care about in the slightest, though, and when he was prompted to differentiate the overlaying themes of French cinema in the 50′s compared to the 60′s, he knew it was going to be a long exam.

Next came Intro Philosophy, which he felt oddly good about. The questions were broad, he could play to his strengths, and he had managed to get on his prof’s good side, even in such a large lecture. He had sent her an email thanking her for a good term, and that he was looking forward to being in her classes in the future.

Ancient Greek and Modern English Literature were— by some heinous and anachronistic coincidence— scheduled mere hours from each other. He slept like a rock after he finished both of them, going comatose for a blissful few hours before waking up to cram for his final exam of second year.

Intro Physics.

Why he took the most math-heavy option for his mandatory science credit, he didn’t know. He regrets it, _god _does he regret it— but it’s too late to go back now.

_You just need to pass, _is what he told himself— whether he believed it or not.

But now— finally, _finally— _he is done. 

It’s dark when he comes back into his dorm. A regular physics exam apparently wasn’t punishment enough, _no, _administration opted for an _evening _physics exam. But, at the very least, he finished. Without crying. And he even managed to answer _most _of the questions.

The room is dark, too, and so he turns on his bedside lamp rather than the overhead light. Lucas likes to go to sleep early on the nights he can manage it, and so he doesn’t want to disturb him. _Especially _because his exams are just getting started.

The perk of having all five finals during the first week of the exam period, he supposes.

How odd it is, to think that he didn’t know Lucas before September.

They had been randomly assigned the same room over the summer, and the first couple of weeks were— in a word— quiet. He kept to himself, and Lucas did the same.

But then, day by day, they grew closer.

It started with offers to sit together in meal hall. A casual _my friends are out cramming for a class that i’m not in _brought them together, the first time. Turns out that Lucas had quite a few interesting stories, sit-ins and protests and threats of suspension at his _lycée—_ which, oddly enough, Eliott had almost transferred to during his second go at _terminale._

Now, they hang out all the time. 

It helps that they live together, but they spend most of their free time sat on one of their beds, watching a TV show one week, a series of films the next. Lucas rolls his eyes when Eliott explains the nuances of the cinematography, but when he said he would stop Lucas muttered a quiet _don’t, it’s actually pretty endearing. _

That had been the time, he thinks.

The first time his heart had whispered _there’s something here._

Now, he’s 99% sure that that _something _is a full-blown, all-consuming _crush _on his roommate.

His roommate who— he realizes when he turns his lamp on— is curled up in the wrong bed.

“Lucas?” He says, softly. Lucas doesn’t stir. He approaches, slowly, and shakes him as gently as possible. Lucas hums, his eyebrows furrowing as he curls into the pillow even more, his expression evening out a moment later. “Lucas,” he says again, louder, and only then do Lucas’ eyes blink open. They go wide almost instantly. “I believe you’re in my bed.”

“Oh. Ah,” Lucas starts, still half-asleep, his voice adorably raspy. “I can’t sleep— well, I _couldn’t_— can I sleep here?” And okay, _wow, _his heart needs to calm down_ now. _Just because the boy he’s crushing on is curled up half-asleep in his bed, his hair beautifully disheveled, requesting to _continue _being adorable in his bed? Doesn’t mean his heart has a right to pound away at the inside of his chest like this. It’s _fine, _he’s doing _just fine right now—_

“Never mind,” Lucas says, his eyes blinking their way into wakefulness. “That was a weird question, I’m sorry, I’ll just—”

“No.” Eliott stops him with his hand, keeping Lucas in place, still sitting on the mattress, wrapped up in his sheets. “Lucas, it’s fine. If you’re more comfortable in my bed, then don’t worry about it. I’ll just take yours for the night.”

“Oh, um..” Lucas’ eyes look down toward his lap, “Would you maybe be able to sleep here too?” His voice has gone quieter, timid. He’s asking tentatively. “I just… Don’t want to be alone right now.” _Oh fuck, _his mind cries, because the boy he’s crushing on is curled up half-asleep in his bed, requesting to _continue _being adorable in his bed, _with him also in his bed? _

He tries to focus on the _I don’t want to be alone _part of Lucas’ statement, rather than jumping his bones right then and there.

“You wanna talk about it?” He asks, sitting down on the edge of his bed.

“No— I mean, there isn’t a whole lot to talk about. I’m just stressed about finals, you know?” If anyone has the right to be stressed about final, it’s Lucas. He had scored incredibly well on his science _bac, _and so the department of biology had given him permission to skip an intro course, and enter right into the second-year course that comes after it. Eliott knows he’s been struggling through it, offering the best help he can— which most days involve dad-jokes about science that he found on the internet— with that course, and all of his others.

“Oh, I _know. _May I remind you that my exams are _done. _Like, all five of them.” Not done _well, _but they’re certainly _done._

“But you survived, in the end.” Lucas says, smiling at him. There’s something in his expression that looks like pride, and it makes Eliott blush, just a little.

“I did, and you will, too.” He lays down in the small bit of empty space in his bed, settling under the covers. His leg grazes Lucas’ and it feels like lightning cracking. “Now, let’s get some rest. You have an afternoon exam tomorrow, yes?” Lucas nods at him. “I’ll help you cram over breakfast, okay? Even if it’s only with bad science jokes.”

“Okay.” Lucas laughs, light an airy, and it feels comforting. He laughs back. “Eliott?”

“Mm?”

“Thank you.” Lucas says, gentle and so, _so _vulnerable. Eliott ruffles his hair affectionately and then turns around, his back to Lucas, to avoid exploding from the tenderness of Lucas’ voice, of his face.

Some time passes, and Eliott genuinely _tries _to fall asleep. But he’s hyperaware of the fact that Lucas is in bed with him— even if his back is turned. His breathing is even, his eyes are closed— _why _can’t he just fall asleep?

He feels Lucas shift behind him, and then a hesitant hand is reaching around his wait, barely reaching the front of his torso. He has to use everything in him to stop from letting his breath catch, from whipping around and asking Lucas _what the fuck is happening._

Before he can, though, Lucas’ voice cuts through the silence.

“I love you, Eliott.”

It’s whisper-light, and barely there, but Eliott would have caught it from a mile away. He can feel Lucas settle down for sleep again, and the next hour that he spends doing deep breathing and _pretending _to be asleep doesn’t give him any indicator that Lucas is awake.

_I love you, I love you, I love you, _echoes through his head, in Lucas’ voice, lulling him— eventually— into a light slumber.


End file.
